At Least

Ah, erm. I wanted to say something about not being allowed to brag about my own personality traits, or something. Hold up, my leg is bouncing up and down while my arm iss resting on itt. I'm typing. Yeah I mean, half of me is thinking that the pressure should be on. Most of me agrees that things are going ok. Things are going according to plan, I suppose. Then comes the unplanned. Heh, my dad is in the hospital right now, after a car accident. Of course, I am unable to head to Atlanta to visit him. I'm just not sure about how I am reacting. I am sure that anything I can say right now, about this situation, would be considered exploitation. To myself, at least. Ok, let me just say that this is an example of me thinking rather than feeling. If we can put aside the severity of the problem, I just want to reflect on this aspect... Well, I don't know.. People that are motivated by feelings, are they the ones who announce to the world this type of stuff? This is going to be a hard thought-process to untangle, though.

No feelings happen when I get news like this, which cannot be a bad thing, but if they did... what would they be? Worry vs. Concern... What am I doing right now? What should I be doing right now? I am at ease, for the most part. I just don't know if I should be. My left leg is shaking, and that is all. The same leg was shaking around this time, last year. I was just writing a story and I noticed the things that must be on my mind right now. Once again, the news has found its way into my thoughts. Yesterday was the first I had even heard of those miners in Chile. That aggravated me, at first. Some news story that I didn't even know about, having an almost ineffective outcome. Comedians had to break that piece of news to me. Why am I hearing this story, and why will it be in my subconscious for a while? I guess the story was irrelevant to me, until now. I won't explain why.

Let's try it this way. I woke up at eleven, and was alert by 11:30. Today, I had plans for me to: message two people about my phone number, finish my financial aid thing, and call Hank and my dad. The only thing I did not do was call Hank. I held off on breakfast because I really was not in the mood to give that soy milk another chance. Right. I called my dad, and he didn't answer the first time. I was still in bed. A minute later, he called me back. He seemed to just be waking up, too. Apparently, this was his day off from his new job. He told me that it was a good thing that they gave him a day off because he was feeling a little bit sick. It's flu season, I suppose. It was a short phone call, but he said he would get in touch Saturday. So, my day started. I showered and turned on my computer monitor to see that I had set aside some videos for me to edit today. I guess I edited two, and looked through the rest. Meanwhile, it was my mom who was finishing up my financial aid for me. I didn't expect that at all. Somewhere along the way, I guess the video editing did cut into the afternoon. Not sure if I remember where the time went today.

It was evening, and in a rare occasion, I sat on the couch and watched tv. Actually, I had been encouraging myself to watch tv more often in order to keep myself aware of the ways that shows are written and stuff. I was watching Seinfeld, when I got a call from my dad's phone number. When I answered, I heard my dad's friend. She told me that he was in the hospital after a car accident. In hindsight, this reaction is familiar. I'll try not to keep that in mind. But see, all I can think about is exploitation. How do people react to others when they are in pain? I'm sorry, but if I say what is actually going on in my head, then..

Every thought is going through my head. The hilarity, the horror, the satire, the honesty, the memories, the news, the stories, the offense, the defense, the ugly, and whatever the opposites to all those things are. And more. I was already thinking these things, though. It's a paradox because none of this is caused by hearing that my dad is in intensive care, and it is at the same time. Was I already going to talk about something? Was I already planning to talk about my weekend? Will I forget the weekend completely? Hah, it's officially Friday. When did my weekend end? What am I allowed to be thinking about? Should I be concentrating on getting to hospital to visit my dad? Should I be thinking about things to cover that whole thing up?
Current Mood: Waiting.
Let's be honest, I'll do the family thing and "keep him in my prayers," at the very least. I guess all that is really on anyone's mind at the minute, though, is get-rich-quick. Nothing unexpected, just really amplified to me.. you know, besides this entry's main concern and due to loss of interest in certain other folks. I was really wanting to write about how I have over 14 things that I am working on. I already did that, kinda. It was just going to be about me being slick about the fact that I am able to handle various things with no problem. Then I was going to have the realization that I am not even actively working on those things. That's out of the question, I guess. Now, all I can think is "well, my dad's in the hospital" when I'm trying to maintain focus on this keyboard. That quote is really a balancing act. I'm imagining that I really should not imagine anything too far to the right of that statement. If anything, I'll lean more to the left. On the left, are the good thoughts. Alright, fine. I can't even remember what mental disorder that is. Doesn't matter though.

Yeah, too many things at once. Too many thoughts at once, rather. I know I am not in denial, (don't speak in absolutes) and I know that at the very back of my mind I really just want to mention an episode of King of the Hill that I just watched. Nothing really, just the fact that Bobby was in "the hole" at the military camp, er academy thing that he was sent to. Chile, again. The story I was just writing, again. "Keep him in your prayers," again. The right side.

At the end, I guess there's no use in worrying about others exploiting emotions when they feel more than they think. It all comes back to personality types. Thinkers and feelers. It also comes back to that Stephen King interview I just read. He mentioned something hypothetical about getting into a car accident and thinking "this is just like the movies" rather than being worried about his safety. I'll admit, my heart just skipped when my eyes moved from the name Stephen King up to where I had written King of the Hill, but ah well. Connecting things. I'll ignore it if I have to. As of now, I still haven't read anything by the man. Just about him. It's almost like when I started listening to Frank Zappa. I just read his quotes. Then came the 3 discs of music. Eh, whatever. Wish I could stick to one topic, though. Also, my aunt thinks that my dad might have blacked out before the accident because my dad's friend said he hadn't eaten before then. Could also be the flu. Or any other sickness that would be going around. At the end of it all, it's probably just more exploitation.

I can't even tell where I am thinking.

Might As Well

Alright, then.
I guess the actual thing that's on my mind (after erasing a couple of sentences) is the whole thought of.. er. 'if you only had ___ to live' and stuff like that. I mean. I don't know how I am with that. I guess I've been waiting for me to finally figure out what it means to me. You know, kind of like when you've known of a certain famous person all of your life, but you're just not ready to know about him or her? More like when you hear a 'fact of life' or someone's motto and you've always thought that you knew what it meant.. Hell, I guess now is the time I finally delve into 'you only live once'. I guess knowing that I'm going to make it in the end isn't enough, right now. It's like I'm kind of preparing for the day where I find out I only have one day left. I guess I don't know enough of the world for me to find out about a last thing that I can do right now. Anything I'd want to do anytime soon, I'd rather just see develop. Not the process, just ugh. Processes make me run away, actually. So, no. Like, I know how easy everything is- within reason.

Honestly. It still confuses me. Yeah, I realized that I can actually get "confused". I guess I have to just look at it how it is.. "one day to live". Well, I could be breathing mold right now and that's deadly. I might, honestly, pass away soon. Unexpectedly. How much should I worry, thinking that I might actually just expire within months? It doesn't really bother me a whole lot, until I think about all the stuff they'd find in my notebooks and other writings. Ha, really, I'm just thinking about the many people who already have no idea what to make of the things I have had to say. That's a whole other story, maybe. I don't claim to be misunderstood or nothin'.

Ok screw it. "Current mood: Embarrassed.. Mortified.." I don't know. It doesn't matter what causes these things and how I resolve them or could have resolved them. I know that there's got to be a point where you can literally just redeem yourself. I shouldn't just take several tiny, yet huge, embarrassing moments and just say "ok, I'll just make jokes or movies about them so they won't be so horrifying to remember." I really, really have got to talk to these people about these ambiguous moments. I've got to find out, or let them find out, what can be reasonable in these situations. Of course, I won't be able to track down other folks, but if the things have just happened.. then I should say something. How can you really just be honest when it comes to people who.. matter? Really, on that note, how does one really at least try to get someone to do what's right? Wow. In a way, once again, it feels like heh being a puppeteer, for lack of better metaphors. Then after thinking, it's back to how I felt before the summer. Where several people are making me up. I'm several peoples' puppet? Nah, whatever, that's all stupid. This is stupid. Really stupid, all of it. This is actually just very stupid, and I couldn't be having a better time talking about how stupid this actually is.

I'm typing. What in the hell could that attribute to me doing what I want to do? I'm holding back, by the way. A lot. Because I have additional ideas, that aren't able to just be typed. They're the things that you see after you read this that's kind of "oh, that must be what caused him to do this'. Stupid. I've been losing brainpower, recently. That can literally, literally mean few things. Willful loss of brain? Me? No, actually, never. Ha.

This is awful. Nothing's awful, just this is awful. I know a person who just did the stupidest thing I can think of. I know him. Heh, to say the least. I know a person who has actually given up on things that they just "don't see happening". I know a couple of folks who just won't do things, and seem to wonder why they have to continue with their regular lives. I know a guy who I know I can't fully trust, but I really don't even care. Yet, I instinctively care. I know someone who literally will not make sense to me at all. That's what I know right now. That must be what's on my mind. This is ridiculous. All over the place. Where have I been? How do I know I haven't had this same mind-state before? This is probably how I felt, back in January, where I had not previously been "typing".

All year, I've had one set of things on my mind. I didn't say a word. Thought I said something, but no. Now, I've come back from Chicago, uttering quotes that I didn't think I'd remember. Now I'm back in a business-man state of mind. Now I'm trying to "network". That conflicts with everything I was, most of this year.

I think the wind is right.. something's in proper alignment ONLY for me to be able to safely say.. "I'm confused." And since context has to be an issue, it's literally just thoughts about real life. Real. Real. Real. Life. Li-li-life life. NOT the "real world" that older people warn you about. That's still nonsense. Alright, fine. I am unable to cope with the embarrassment, practically because I'm not talking about it. So, no use.

Also, I am unable to go from this to doing what I want about "one life to live" stuff. It wouldn't work. I'll still try. But really. "Being alive is so weird."

Newt Rick

Anyhow, despite impossibility, yeah I woke up fine this morning. I mean impossibility of it having been this morning, not the fact that it was unbelievable that I'd wake up fine. I just get cryptic when it comes to the edge of bragging about technology.

Still one of those fly-by grocery days where I spend the entire time in my own head, finishing old arguments or debating on how the hell to get out. As soon as I got back home, I showered and just took a walk. The old walk I used to take. That old cliche of going to one's quiet place. Might as well.

While gone, I guess it's confirmed that we may start working on Dait-A-Base. In all honesty, I just hope I get to direct it. I had to watch Ed Wood, yesterday, just for the scenes where he's finally making Plan 9. Just to hear the lines like "are you people insane?" (probably not exact) and Orson Welles' part. It's like, I've come here for this reason. I've got to take hold of something, somehow.

I've been too quiet. There's proof. I've been running this through my head: "throughout each day, I only say 5 things. That's if you count 'heh.'" Which isn't necessarily true, but I have had to pipe down for the most part. Not that I say a lot. Which is what I am trying to explain. If I had just talked all through high school, and if I just talk now, would more people know about the things that I want to do? I mean, no one has actually asked me about that side of myself, at work. Agh. The words. Even though I was asked about music preference and my comedy act. Fragment. Physical proof that I don't speak out is that my voice is actually terrible. It doesn't get much exercise either. It's supposed to be "I wonder what Pito sounds like when he sings," not "don't let Pito sing, have you heard his little comedy songs?" Still, no matter what anyone else says- nobody has heard me sing. My lung capacity. The fact that people even associate me with comedy. People misunderstanding all of that for me actually wanting to sing. Voice is on my "Work on:" list. So is Time Management. Which brings me to the other part of today...

Went through some old things I've written and, of course, drawings I've done. The relevance of those things rely on what it is that I actually want to work on next. With the whole Time Management thing, I need to agh. Not even the surface. Furniture, my old files, my new files, catalog, to-do list, resolutions, sleep, work, this Twill bs. Not even to mention that I finally got somewhere with any whit-worth of a social life. Actually sounds like a saying. Alright, let's see if I can prioritize on my way into sleep. This is the 23rd though. Well, now it's actually 24 but all pretend. Not obligated, just making sure.

Consumed.

To Have Done

Lot of to-do list type of stuff in the past 30 minutes. Cleared the to-do list of things to put on my to-do list. Listening to the Parliament was on my to-do list. Last time, Regina Spektor. I have to remind myself what I'm in the mood for. It works out, when it's supposed to. Actual white wine, though.

Another payday, but really subtle. Generous amount, but not a lot off emphasis. Today and yesterday, kind of anxious about the fact that I have the phone that other people have been getting. The one that I just found out to be on a billboard. It's fine, though. I'm Me. It's a triumph for me, when looked at by those others. I just finally want to make sure I'm able to get things settled. So I don't have to put all my eggs in one baskets. Really wish it was bricks, for some reason.

I want to fix my voice. I want us to be able to have full control over our health. I mean, within reason. It's ok, generosity again. I'll have it figured. Accidental marriage. Gah, bad timing.

Alright, I hav-- oh yeah I was supposed to mention that today was shot in a different style. People have become aware of the things that I have become aware of but only in one instance. Pride and the consequence. Took a walk because of my dream last night. One person who would never sing a song that they were singing. A walk through my high school years after being ousted. The dream of course. Void. Enough sleep, though. Part two. Then, on track.

Not even.